


two for the price of one

by returnsandreturns



Category: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Gwen (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Crossing Parallels, Double Penetration, Humor, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 10:44:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13949919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnsandreturns/pseuds/returnsandreturns
Summary: “Mirror-verse Matt is a lot,” he hisses. “He has none of your—fluffy charm.”“I’m not fluffy,” Matt says, which means a lot coming from the guy with the most adorable bedhead that Foggy’s ever seen. He’s not responsible for the fact that Matt looks pettable almost all of the time that he’s not physically assaulting people.“Fluffy handsome duck,” Foggy says, accusingly. “That man is no sort of duck.”“Is that a compliment?” Murdock calls. Foggy groans.“I hate that there’s two of you.”





	two for the price of one

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, this was going to be, like, darkly sexual but then it was just Foggy herding Matts around like a mama duck. I don't even know.
> 
> eta: mirrorverse Matt is not my own, let me introduce you to Matt Murderdock [if you're not already acquainted](http://http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Matthew_Murdock_\(Earth-65\)). He's terrible and I love him.

 

“Hey, Matt, only two of our bills are bright red this month!” Foggy says as he comes into the office, mail tucked under his arm, holding a tray of coffees in one hand and reading the newspaper in his other. “And _apparently_ , our names are somewhere in the paper because of our last incredibly newsworthy victory. Anyway, I got coffee from that bougie organic place you like so much to celebrate us moving up in the world and I thought we—”

He starts to hand the coffee to Matt before he sees who’s actually standing in front of him.

“ _You—_ are not Matt.”

The guy smiles sweetly.

“Well,” he says, taking a step forward. “That’s not _entirely_ true.”

*

“We’re dealing in _alternate dimensions_ now _?”_ Foggy asks.

His Matt is sitting in front of him and this— _other_ Matt, blue eyes and red hair and a rough estimation of normal Matt’s face, is sitting calmly in their waiting room.

“Yeah, apparently,” Matt says, sounding exhausted. “He was waiting outside when I got here.”

“How could you tell that—that he was _you_?”

“. . .it’s hard to explain,” Matt says. Foggy sighs.

“I’m just going to assume it’s like a dog sniffing his own asshole and refuse to hear anything else about it,” he says, feeling somewhat comforted by the fact that Matt grins. “Do you know what’s going on? Why he’s here?”

“I don’t,” Matt says, “and he—says he doesn’t, either.”

“. . .and what does his _heart_ say?” Foggy asks, jumping when stranger danger Matt in the other room laughs sharply.

“Not a blip,” Matt says. “I should remind you that he can hear everything we say.”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” the other Matt says, just loud enough that Foggy can hear him, stretching his long legs in front of him. Foggy thinks he might be taller than _his_ Matt, like something happened in his universe to make him grow an inch or two, but it’s probably just because he’s so _imposing._

Foggy knows this because he moved close to loom over him the second that Foggy stopped and saw him, making matters more confusing by poking Foggy gently in the chest and leaving his finger there as he says, “Oh, I have one of _you_.”

Which _really_ make it sound like he has a Foggy in a cage somewhere, an image which is horrifying and also the tiniest bit arousing. Like a kinky _Twilight Zone_ episode. Foggy needs to get his shit together.

“What’s the plan here?” he asks, now, tempted to pull his own Matt into a hug to verify his existence.

“. . . I was hoping you’d have one?” Matt says, weakly.

*

“You’re _googling_ it,” Murdock says, dryly, lounging against the wall in Foggy’s office. Foggy has decided to designate alt-Matt _Murdock_ to make his brain start screaming less.

“Do you have a better idea?” Matt snaps.

They’ve been in the same room for fifteen minutes and the Matts are already not into each other. Foggy has a theory that it’s because an additional Matt means that half of the attention of the room is immediately taken away from each of them, but things are contentious enough right now that he doesn’t think he’s going to vocalize this.

Instead, he interrupts to ask, “So it’s still Google in your timeline?”

Murdock raises his eyebrows. “As opposed to what?”

“I don’t know, Dark Google?” Foggy offers, shrugging, while he scans over the search results for _alternate universe body double help_ only to find scifi forums and a _lot_ of dirty fanfiction. “Everyone’s using Bing? Ask Jeeves never died? _God_ , I’ve got some shit I’d like to ask Jeeves.”

Murdock snorts.

“As far as I can tell, our worlds are awfully similar,” he says. “They just produced— _very_ different people.”

“Oh. Have you guys swapped life stories yet?” Foggy says, curious but mostly talking for the sake of filling in the weird tense silence, barely paying attention to what he’s saying. “Compare and contrast? We’ve got a white board, we can go over your respective childhood traumas—oh god, _Matt_ , there’s _nothing,_ because this has literally never happened to anybody but _you and Spock.”_

He shuts his laptop and turns to look at Matt, who makes a sad puppy face.

“I only got two hours of sleep last night,” he says.

“I only get two hours of sleep every night,” Murdock says, raising his eyebrows, like sleep deprivation is something to brag about. He’s—okay, he’s _definitely_ Matt.

The puppy face goes dark.

“Maybe that’s why you’re so—”

“Oh, hey!” Foggy says, standing up between them. “Danny!”

“Danny?” Matt echoes.

“He’s stupid rich, which normally helps problems,” Foggy says. “Plus all the—mystic glowy fist garbage. We should talk to Danny.”

“. . .yeah, I guess,” Matt says, sighing and turning to head back to his office. “It’s either that or try to get in touch with Tony Stark and—no, thanks.”

“You’ve got a Tony Stark, right?” Foggy asks, angling his head at Murdock curiously.

“Yes,” Murdock says, indulgently, stepping closer to—yeah, loom is the word—to _loom_ over Foggy. Foggy’s been too busy trying to absorb the _down to fight_ energy in the room and trying to make the internet be useful for once to actually get a good look at him, but he feels like Murdock’s seen right through him already. “I’ve got a Tony Stark.”

“Uhm, cool,” Foggy says, a little high-pitched. For a long moment, he thinks that Murdock might touch him again and, for a much shorter moment, he thinks he might _want_ him to.

Instead he says, “What was that, Matt? Matt, uhm— _my_ Matt called for me, I should—yeah,” and goes to hide in Matt’s office, cringing when Murdock laughs and Matt gives him an unimpressed look.

“Mirror-verse Matt is a _lot_ ,” he hisses. “He has none of your— _fluffy charm_.”

“I’m not fluffy,” Matt says, which means a lot coming from the guy with the most adorable bedhead that Foggy’s ever seen. He’s not responsible for the fact that Matt looks pettable almost all of the time that he’s not physically assaulting people.

“Fluffy handsome duck,” Foggy says, accusingly. “That man is _no sort of duck_.”

“Is that a compliment?” Murdock calls. Foggy groans.

“ _I hate that there’s two of you.”_

_*_

“. . .whoa,” Danny says, after they relay the entire story to him.

“Whoa indeed,” Murdock says. He doesn’t seem especially impressed by Danny.

“Do you have any experience with anything like this?” Matt asks. “We’re desperate.”

“. . .no,” Danny says, after a long moment, like he might have forgotten any clone encounters. “Sorry, this is new.”

“Didn’t you say he punched a dragon in the heart?” Murdock mutters, loudly, leaning into Foggy.

“Just the one time,” Danny says, frowning.

“Just the one time,” Murdock echoes, in the same tone.

“ _Thank you_ , Danny,” Foggy says. “Do you maybe know anyone who could help us? Or someone who knows someone?”

“Or someone who can pay to have someone disappear?” Matt mutters, at the exact same volume as his new scary brother, who almost looks charmed at the threat.

“Uhm, let me ask around,” Danny says. “I might. Well, not the last one, but—I mean, I _could find_ someone, but I don’t really want to be involved in that.”

“Nobody’s going to be murdering their twin today,” Foggy promises, turning to see both Matts looking equally unconvinced of that and sighing. “Alright, boys. Let’s get going. If anyone looks so much as slightly murderous, I’m calling Tony Stark and we’ll _all_ have to deal with that.”

“Oh, I know Tony!” Danny says. “I can give you his cell.”

“No,” Matt groans.

Tony Stark became briefly fascinated with the Defenders at some point when he wasn’t busy either saving or partially destroying the city and he was _especially_ charmed with Daredevil. He wanted to give him a weaponized suit and recruit him, basically. Matt was turned off from the get-go.

“Give it to me,” Foggy says, getting out his phone. “I need leverage.”

*

“Okay, we’re not going to get anything done for the rest of the night,” Foggy says, as they’re walking in the vague direction of Matt’s apartment later. “I propose that we just go the hell to sleep and maybe this will all be over in the morning.”

“I propose that I’m no longer sober,” Murdock says, angling a look in Foggy’s direction. “Make that happen, Nelson.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Matt says.

“Huh,” Murdock says, levelly. “Who knew there was a version of me that’s such a boy scout?”

Before Matt can reply to that, Foggy turns to take his arm and says, “Hey, you’re a good guy, that was an unintended compliment. Plus, cookies!”

“That’s girl scouts,” Matt says.

“. . .okay, still,” Foggy says. “I’ve got this, it’ll be fine. You go sleep or—do your—nocturnal activities and I’ll babysit other you.”

“Yeah,” Murdock says, smirking. “He’ll _babysit_ me.”

“Did you just—did you just _sexualize babysitting_?” Foggy hisses, turning to look at him. The smirk just gets smirkier. “Okay, wow.”

“I’m not leaving you alone with him,” Matt says.

“You don’t think I can handle it?” Foggy asks.

“Oh, I think you can handle it just fine,” Murdock says, so intentionally flirty that Foggy rolls his eyes. He’d say that it’s a turn-off but Foggy has no control over that anymore when it comes to people with that face. He just has to roll with the punches and the hard-ons and the hard-ons occasionally caused by seeing Matt punching people.

“ _Foggy_ ,” Matt says, gesturing at the other him in a _clearly he is out to seduce you and ruin your name_ kind of way.

“Fine!” Foggy says, too loud, throwing his hands up in the air. “Turn around, kids, _I’m_ the one getting drunk! And Matt Murdock’s paying for it!”

“Fine,” Murdock echoes, happily.

“ _Fine_ ,” Matt echoes—less than happily.

*

“My credit card doesn’t work here,” Murdock says, after Foggy’s had four shots and is feeling honestly spectacular, “because of obvious reasons.”

“Convenient,” Matt says.

“That’s not—no, sweetheart,” Foggy says, petting Matt’s arm, because three shots is the point at which it seems appropriate to start openly treating Matt like he’s his long-suffering spouse. Which—close enough.

“One more shot,” Matt says, firmly, “and then I’m cutting you off.”

“ _I’ll_ buy you another shot,” Murdock says.

“Your credit card doesn’t work here,” Matt says, flatly.

“I’ll get it another way,” Murdock says, calmly, getting to his feet.

“No, shit, you can’t flirt with Josie!” Foggy says, almost following him when Matt grabs his arm and pulls him down gently, grinning.

“Let him,” he says, sitting back in his chair.

Thirty seconds later, Murdock sinks down into his chair, looking wounded.

“Well?” Foggy asks.

“She’s tough,” Murdock says, delicately. “I respect that.”

“She told him to take his bad dye job and sit his ass down until he had some cash,” Matt says, laughing until he shuts up abruptly, turning his head away. Foggy’s used to that look by now.

“Is Timmy stuck in the well, boy?” he asks.

“The dog metaphors are—played out,” Matt murmurs, distractedly, before turning to make a face at Foggy. “I’ve got to go do something. You should drop him off at my place and then go get some rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Foggy says. “Go be a hero.”

Matt hesitates after he stands up before he swoops down and presses a firm kiss to the top of Foggy’s head. Foggy’s eyes go wide.

“Oh,” Foggy says, turning to watch him sprint for the door. “That’s new.”

“He’s marking his territory,” Murdock says.

“Seriously?”

“Well, he’s not very _good_ at it,” Murdock says, leaning forward and sliding a deliberate foot against Foggy’s under the table. “How about we take one more shot and get out of here?”

This is more action than Foggy’s gotten in, like, months.

“One more,” he agrees.

*

Two more shots and he’s backed up against the wall outside of Josie’s with Murdock draped over him, breathing close to his mouth, not quite kissing yet.

“Is this what you do with—with _your_ Foggy?” Foggy asks, breathlessly.

“Oh, no,” Murdock says, cupping Foggy’s cheek. “He’s not nearly as fun as you.”

“What’s he like?”

“Bowties,” Murdock says, a slight note of disgust as he presses a kiss where his hand was, trails his lips down Foggy’s neck. “Can _not_ take a joke. I wonder if I can take you home with me.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel—well, objectified,” Foggy says, tilting his head to give him better access because apparently he’s just going to let this happen, just gonna get felt up in public by a charmingly sinister simulacrum of his best friend. “Are you planning on keeping me on a leash?”

“Would you like that?” Murdock asks, hands sliding from Foggy’s waist to the small of his back.

“. . .no,” Foggy says.

Not— _quite_ as confidently as he’d like.

Murdock laughs and pushes Foggy back to kiss about half of the guilt that Foggy’s feeling out of him, leaving him panting and overwhelmed when Murdock breaks the kiss and steps back. He lets go of Foggy and Foggy follows him before he even realizes that he’s doing it, moving in closer.

Murdock licks his lips.

“Why don’t you call your friend and tell him that I’ll stay with you tonight instead?” he asks.

“Matt—will _not_ like that,” Foggy says.

“Well,” Murdock says. “Matt’s not here, is he?”

“. . .I mean,” Foggy says. “He _kind of_ is.”

Murdock’s eyes narrow. It’s scary for a split second but then Foggy’s getting kissed again and it’s not all that bad.

On the walk home, with a long arm curved around his waist, Foggy leaves a voicemail on Matt’s phone telling him that Murdock’s going to crash on Foggy’s couch instead and they’ll catch up in the morning. Matt won’t get back home for hours, probably.

“Hey,” he says, when he hangs up and shoves his phone back into his pocket. “ _Is_ that a dye job?”

“Hurry home,” Murdock says, looking straight ahead, lips barely tipped up, “and I’ll let you find out.”

Foggy chokes on a laugh.

“Now, _that’s_ the level of Murdock humor I’ve become accustomed to,” he says, then, because he’s drunk and this is who he is, “Could I hold your hand?”

“Absolutely not,” Murdock says.

“Fair enough.”

*

Foggy’s brain shuts down sometime on the walk back, so it’s just running on a loop of _Am I going to fuck Matt’s clone? Am I going to fuck Matt’s clone? Am I going to fuck Matt’s clone? I’m gonna fuck Matt’s clone. I’m gonna fuck Matt’s clone. Oh god, I’m gonna—_ until suddenly he’s naked in bed, on his knees with two long fingers curled inside of him because—well, he wasn’t quite right.

He’s _definitely_ going to get fucked _by_ Matt’s clone, though.

“I think this is—morally suspect,” he moans out, spreading his legs wider.

“First of all, _stop_ calling me a clone, and second of all—most good things are,” Murdock says, low and sweet, dragging his fingers deliberately against Foggy’s prostate so he cries out. “Do you want to stop?”

“N-no,” Foggy breathes. “No, don’t stop.”

“Good boy,” Murdock says, and Foggy whimpers involuntarily, clenching around his fingers—a little nervous when Murdock adds, smugly, “Noted.”

“That’s not a thing for me,” he says.

“Of course not,” Murdock says, sliding in another finger and twisting them inside of Foggy so he almost pitches forward before he arches back into the feeling and groans. “Been awhile, hasn’t it?”

“Kind of,” Foggy huffs out. “Are you gonna fuck me or what?”

Murdock hums softly and pulls his fingers out slowly, wiping them off on Foggy’s sheets before he climbs off the bed. Foggy turns, concerned that he’s going to get abandoned here, just to see Murdock stripping out of his clothes to reveal pale skin and familiarly emotion-inducing abs. He’s not quite as scarred up as Matt is but there’s no question that he’s capable of the same things.

“Are you a superhero on your home planet?” Foggy asks.

“Sure, sweetheart—something like that,” Murdock says, dryly, and then Foggy sees Matt Murdock’s dick for the first time, sitting up slowly to take in the moment.

“Bigger than I expected,” he says, somewhat dazed, swallowing hard when Murdock strokes himself slowly and intentionally.

“Surprised you haven’t seen it already,” Murdock says, sounding genuinely surprised. “Were you two saving yourselves for each other?”

“. . .oh, _oh—_ you thought we—Matt and I don’t date,” Foggy says, quickly. “Like, at all. We’re just very intense friends. This definitely isn’t the first time this mistake has been made.”

Murdock seems to go through several emotions before he settles for something wicked, kicking his pants away and stalking forward to slide his fingers into Foggy’s hair, pulling him in close.

“I’ll fuck you on two conditions,” he says, softly.

“. . .name ‘em, “ Foggy says.

“One: I get to come all over your pretty face,” Murdock says, fingers stroking over his cheek.

“Done,” Foggy says, too quickly, then sighs. “I mean—it would be a terrible burden that I wouldn’t enjoy at all, but I’ll put up with it. What’s the second one?”

Murdock’s smile is terrifying before he leans in to kiss Foggy thoroughly and shove him hard so he lands on his back on the mattress—immediately opening his legs so Murdock can crawl between them and pin him down by the shoulders.

“You have to call me Matt,” he says.

Foggy’s breath catches.

“Matt,” he repeats, shakily, blushing. “Okay.”

Murdock hitches Foggy’s legs up around his waist.

“Good boy,” he coos, and his voice sounds like _Matt’s_ , and Foggy is—Foggy is _fucked._

In _several_ ways.

*

Foggy’s legs are in the air and he’s panting out a litany of _please_ and _Matt_ when he opens his eyes to see Matt, speak of the _fucking_ devil, climbing through his window.

“ _Shit_ , Matt,” he says, pushing at Murdock’s shoulder, even though he can tell that he knows they’re no longer alone by the look on his face. He thrusts into Foggy one more time, hard enough that Foggy cries out _,_ before he pulls out slowly.

“I, uh—I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Matt says. He sounds hurt.

“I think you did,” Murdock drawls, turning around as Foggy sits up, wincing a little. “You must’ve been able to hear him from a couple of blocks away.”

“I wouldn’t have needed powers for that,” Matt says, dryly.

“Oh, good,” Foggy says, hysterically. “Great. I’m gonna lay all my cards out on the table here: I’m a screamer and also _very_ uncomfortable right now.”

“We were roommates, Fog, I already knew that,” Matt says, still hesitating in the window before he apparently makes a choice and climbs fully inside, shutting it behind him. “I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d actually—”

“. . .sleep with you?” Foggy asks, laughing tightly. “I would’ve done it sooner but this version of you is significantly less straight.”

Matt opens his mouth like he’s going to say something about five times.

“Christ,” Murdock says, laughing. “Are you going to tell him or should I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt says, raising his eyebrows.

Murdock sighs exaggeratedly and turns to pull Foggy into a kiss, long and dirty, before letting go of him. Foggy opens his eyes to see that Matt looks upset. Not like he’s disgusted or anything, but— _jealous_ , maybe.

Also, he _definitely_ has an erection.

“Matt,” Foggy says, softly.

“I—I’ll leave you two alone,” Matt says, turning away. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s not what he wants,” Murdock says.

“. . .wait, what _do_ I want?” Foggy asks. He’d actually really like to know that.

Murdock turns to smile at him and lean close again, pushing Foggy’s hair away from his face.

“Matt,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Foggy’s mouth. “Murdock.”

“Oh,” Foggy breathes. “Right.”

*

Foggy’s life has been pretty damn weird since his best friend decided to cosplay as Satan and fight crime in his spare time but tonight has eclipsed all other nights, because he’s naked in a room with two Matt Murdocks who are also naked. In a room. With Foggy.

Who is _naked_.

“You want this?” Foggy asks, after his Matt climbs onto the bed, runs fingers through Foggy’s hair hesitantly.

“I want _you_ ,” Matt says. “Not him.”

“Ditto,” Murdock says, dryly.

“Does that mean you two aren’t going to make out for me?” Foggy asks. “Because that’s a personal fantasy of mine as of two minutes ago.”

“ _Hell_ no,” both Matts say, in unison, before turning suspicious glares on each other. Foggy bursts out laughing and it’s only partially hysteria.

“Fair enough,” he says. “Matt, kiss me.”

“Which one—” Matt starts, and Foggy answers by pulling him on top of him, kissing him intently.

“You,” he murmurs, against Matt’s mouth. “ _My_ Matt.”

“Yours,” Matt agrees.

They spend a long moment with their foreheads together, shaky and romantic, breathing each other in, before Murdock coughs loudly and says, “Touching as this is, I _was_ kind of in the middle of something.”

“Oh, right,” Foggy says. “How—how are we doing this?”

“I’m planning on finishing what I started,” Murdock says, almost threateningly, like he’s going to fight Matt for what hole he gets. Which is—yeah, new fantasy. He wants them to kiss and fight each other and then use his body to take out their excess energy.

Matt kisses him one more time before he sits up, pulling Foggy with him.

“Whatever you want, Fog,” he says, softly.

Foggy’s life of questionable pornography consumption flashes before his eyes.

“I, uh,” he says, voice dropping to a whisper when he finishes, “I want to take it from both ends.”

“What was that?” Murdock asks, sweetly. “You’ve got to speak up, you _know_ how bad our hearing is.”

“Oh my god,” Foggy says, covering his face with his hands. “I—I _want to be fucked from both ends_.”

“Well, _well—_ maybe I should’ve been calling you a _bad_ boy,” Murdock says, tone somewhere between turned on and mocking. “Get on your hands and knees.”

Foggy makes what he can only describe as an incoherent dying sex noise. He might not survive this.

*

"Oh,  _Foggy_ ," Matt says, petting Foggy's hair, tracing his jaw and the bridge of his noise and where his dick is stretching Foggy's lips with gentle, cautious fingers. He's not fucking Foggy but his twin sure as hell is, pounding into him with steady hard thrusts that force Foggy forward, that make him choke on Matt's dick while Matt tells him how sweet he is, how perfect, how he's wanted him _forever—_

Foggy makes a muffled, outraged noise before pulling off and saying, “For _ever_? What the _fuck_ , Matthew?”

“I—I didn’t think you wanted me,” Matt says.

Murdock groans aggressively behind them, pulling Foggy back on his dick.

“You’re in love with each other,” he says, flatly. “I could _smell it_ on you the first time you were in the same room. It’s horrifying.”

“. . .is that why you slept with me?” Foggy asks, glancing back.

“That just made it more fun.”

“Right—I’ve been gone for you since college, but maybe we should talk about that later,” Foggy says, turning back, so Matt nods—a helpless happy grin on his face that makes Foggy all warm and fuzzy inside, which he has to ruin with—“Will you—will you fuck my face? Please?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, curling his fingers in Foggy’s hair, tugging gently to bring him forward. “If that’s what you want.”

“Finally,” Murdock mutters. “I wasn’t going to be party to your _lovemaking.”_

Matt looks like he’s going to say something snippy in reply so Foggy moves in to lick a stripe up his dick, cutting him off by making him moan in a way that Foggy’s only ever heard through dorm room walls before. He takes Matt in his mouth as Murdock starts to fuck him again, starting slow, so Foggy’s rocking between them when Matt starts to push forward with his hips and guide Foggy by his hair.

It probably makes sense that they’re so in sync, but Foggy loses track of time in the rhythm of it, in the feeling of being pushed and pulled and _full_ , always full, one of them filling him up the moment the other pulls out. He can’t do anything but moan and move where they want him (they _want_ him) and feel everything at once—his breath cut off, Matt’s fingers pulling his hair, Murdock’s digging bruises into his hips, distant internal panic over how _weird_ this is, and whatever feeling encompasses the knowledge that Matt is in love with him, a fact that seems equally insane as the fact that he’s currently getting double-teamed by Matt Murdock and _Matt Murdock_. Sometime in there, one of them gets a hand on his dick and he barely notices that he comes

“ _Fuck,”_ Murdock says, grinding his hips against Foggy’s ass before he pulls out, spanking him lightly when Foggy makes a sad noise. “Put him on his back.”

Matt pulls Foggy off gently and Foggy says, “It’s okay, I want—I told him he could come on my face.”

Matt turns bright red.

“Oh,” he says.

“You—you can, too,” Foggy says, feeling inexplicably shy as Matt helps him lie down. He stretches out his legs before he shifts around so he’s laying between them, face tipped up and redder than Matt is. He’s barely had any sex in the last couple of years and this feels like a pretty insane way to get back in the game.

He shuts his eyes for a long moment before he hears cut-off breaths, soft grunts, opening his eyes to see both of them jerking off over him, identical looks of overwhelmed concentration on their faces.

“Say please,” Murdock says, obviously close by the way he barely grunts out his words.

“Please,” Foggy echoes, immediately. “Fuck, _please_ , I want it—both of you.”

They come at the same time, like down to the second, which Foggy’s going to find hilarious once he gets over the feeling of their come on his face. He’s never actually had that happen before and it’s completely gross, but everything leading up to it was the hottest thing that has ever happened to him.

“Hold on, I’ll get a washcloth,” Matt murmurs, as Foggy wipes at his eyes and sits up.

Murdock’s already stretching out on the bed with a loud yawn, hair slicked back with sweat, looking pleased with himself.

“Think three can fit in this bed?” he asks, lazily.

“Maybe if there’s cuddling involved,” Foggy says, licking his lips curiously and pulling a face.

“I don’t do that,” Murdock says, and Foggy snorts.

“I do,” Matt says, smiling softly as he comes back in and encourages Foggy to sit up more, carefully cleaning his face off before he presses a gentle kiss to his mouth.

They all settle into bed together, Murdock sprawled out and taking up most of the room while Foggy basically lies on top of Matt. He doesn’t mind it.

It’s actually— _kind_ of everything he’s ever wanted.

*

Murdock’s nowhere to be seen when they wake up in the morning.

“Do you think he went back to his dimension?” Foggy asks, sleepily, as Matt slides back in bed with him and pulls him close.

“Maybe,” Matt says.

“I did it with my sex powers,” Foggy mumbles, hiding his face in Matt’s chest, smiling when Matt laughs.

“Either that or he’s out wreaking havoc,” Matt says. “Either way.”

“We’re staying in bed?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, kissing the top of his head. “We’re staying in bed.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow me for more high quality content like this on [tumblr dot com](http://returnsandreturns.tumblr.com)


End file.
